Gift of the Hunt
by Godsliltippy
Summary: The boys are given the task of following clues in Webby's scavenger hunt, but they soon realize it's not as routine a task as they expected.


"Webby gave you what, exactly?" Dewey sent his youngest brother a suspicious glare, already taking the folded piece of paper and pulling it open.

Louie just shrugged, shoving his hands back in his pockets as he took a seat on his bed. "I dunno. She just shoved it in my hand. Said it would be a good exercise in deciphering clues."

The blue-clad duck paused, making sure he had heard correctly. "We don't _need_ to practice this stuff. We've been doing it practically all summer." As he let the words flow, unhindered, he couldn't help the sudden spark of guilt. He and _Webby_ had been doing this. Not his brothers. They'd just learned of the scavenger hunt a few months ago and were still trying to catch up on everything that had been discovered. Casting a quick glance, it was hard not to miss the downward pull of Louie's lip. A sure sign he had struck a nerve. "Uh, sorry, I mean- um maybe we could try it out. It's Webby, so it has to be something interesting…"

A small chuckle came from the bed. "Or dangerous." When Dewey turned to regard his brother, an amused smile was now adorning his face. It was another reminder of how lucky he was to have a family who could forgive his mistakes. So maybe this wasn't a bad idea. They could spend time following clues lain out by someone who basically knew their family better than they knew themselves. He wouldn't be surprised if the end result was more on the personal level with what they'd been through.

He quietly read over the clue, frowning at the lack of information. "I don't-" He was interrupted by their door opening in a rush, Huey practically running in with guide book in hand. He wore an all too eager grin, bouncing from foot to foot as if he'd just won something outrageous. "Hue?"

"Figured it out!" The eldest flipped open his book, unaware that Dewey had turned back to give their bed-lounging brother an exasperated look.

"Told him first?" Dewey groused as Louie nodded with a playful grin. "Awesome. I haven't even had the chance to process it, yet."

Huey stopped in his search through pages of documentation, glancing between both siblings before he appeared to see no need to wait any longer with his discovery. "Here! Page 572 of the JWG. It matches the symbol on the page Webby gave to Louie."

Dewey came to stand next to his excited brother, finding the odd looking picture that matched. "What is it?"

With a grin that spoke volumes of how proud he was to be so devoted to the Junior Woodchucks, Huey pointed to a list of letters and numbers in the book. "Its a guide to creating a cipher in order to send secret messages. Lemme see the clue."

It was handed over without argument, the three of them crowding onto louie's bed. Dewey watched as his brother decoded the lines of numbers and symbols until they revealed the actual message.

"Treehouse…" Louie read, sounding even more confused as he continued. "We have a treehouse?"

Of the time they'd been at the mansion, none of then could recall ever seeing or being told of anything like a treehouse. As far as they knew, the only trees in the vicinity that could hold a small structure were a good mile hike away.

The silence stretched as the trio thought about the clue. It was with a growing sense of frustration that Dewey stood, throwing his arms up.

"Well, this isn't working." He gestured around the room. "Let's check outside. Maybe there'll be something out there."

It was as much of a plan as they could muster, quickly making their way to the back of the house. They were fairly certain Uncle Scrooge wouldn't allow something as large as a tree house to be built in the front. The more Dewey thought about it, he wondered if it was something more than they expected. Their uncle was anything but normal. Who knew what else was laying hidden around the grounds.

His mind went back to a time when he and his brothers, living on the houseboat, had practically begged Uncle Donald for their own hideout. It would just be a space for the boys to do their own thing, and with what little they had, it was a fun way to enjoy life. Safely, they had emphasized. In the end, the older duck had come home with an empty crate from the marina. Donald hadn't allowed them access until he'd completed a thorough cleaning and sanding of all the rough, splintered edges.

When they were finally allowed to inspect their new space, they were surprised to find it exceeded their expectations. Just the right size for three small ducks and a few of their most prized possessions. Even after the cleaning, it still smelled of grease and burnt plastic and to this day, they swore they could still picture the cramped paradise whenever those scents filled the air.

The young duck smiled at the memory, wondering if his brothers could remember it as well. It felt so long ago, tucked beneath the new experiences and adventures of life in the mansion.

"If I were a treehouse…" Huey's voice pulled him from his thoughts as they found themselves walking towards the tree line.

"I'd be in a different yard." Louie mumbled before speaking up. "I doubt any of these trees would work. Maybe it's not really a treehouse?"

"But that's all we've really got; tree and house." The three of them stopped, Dewey's mind rummaging through the information he had. "Let's split up. Maybe we can find something that fits that description."

They each took a section, working their way back through the woods. Dewey kept his eyes lifted to the treetops, searching for ill-attached planks or the bottom of a wooden structure. He continued this task until he heard the clear call of the youngest brother, who had taken to searching the center of the small forest. Veering in Louie's direction, it didn't take long for him to spot the bright green shirt, red quickly approaching from the other side.

Louie took a step towards a tree, bending down to lift something from the ground. Dewey couldn't quite make out the object from this distance, but he did see the sudden shock cross his brother's face before he disappeared into the ground.

Heart pounding, the two older boys came to a halt in front of a dark hole that lay in the spot Louie had occupied. Dark wood, splintered and coated in moss and dirt stuck out from the sides like gnarled teeth.

"Louie! You okay?" Huey called into the pit.

For a moment, they strained to hear anything from below, but with a slight groan, their little brother answered. "Ow… not a fun slide."

"What did you find?" Dewey finally asked once his lungs and heart started working again.

"Can't see anything." There was the gentle sound of shuffling, likely from Louie getting to his feet. "Huey?"

"Incoming!" Dewey turned just in time to see the eldest dropping a lit flashlight into the hole, listening to it clack against the walls on it's way down.

"Oh, wow!" Louie's voice floated back up a moment later. "Treehouse, got it. Yep, this is definitely the place."

"Sweet!" Dewey cheered. "Do you see another way in?"

"Um, nope. Just the way I came down." He sounded disappointed.

As usual, Huey was already digging through a pack that Dewey hadn't even noticed on their trip out. He grinned with appreciation as the older duck removed a length of rope and began securing it to another tree. He was glad he could depend on Huey to keep them ready for just about anything.

It only took about a minute to reach the bottom of the hole that had once been a sloped ladder. Years of rain had washed the slats free of their places in the dirt. They found Louie already moving around the small hideout, the beam of light traveling over dug-out cubbies and tables made of boxes. Another light joined and the trio made quick work of the space, meeting back at the middle.

"Found this up top before I fell." Louie produced a note and handed it to Dewey. He took the page and held it up to the flashlight, trying to see the image scribbled into it. It seemed familiar and he closed his eyes, mentally searching through the mansion for what he knew was there.

"Uh oh." Huey's concerned voice stopped his search, opening his eyes to find the brother in question. Huey's eyes were on their brother, regarding him nervously as he continued. "Louie, don't freak out."

"What? Why?" The youngest's voice squeaked with the now present concern.

Dewey followed Huey's light as it illuminated Louie's leg and saw the reason for the warming. "You're bleeding."

There was one constant about Louie that rarely surfaced, but when it did, it was up to the other two to calm him down. Blood, specifically his own, sent him into a pool of panic and tears. It would've been comical, except it _was_ a pretty decent amount flowing from a gash in his leg and pooling across his foot.

"Oh- uhn-no-o." Louie wobbled.

Dewey caught his brother's arm the moment his eyes found the spot, keeping him from falling onto the hard ground. Huey quickly helped lower the semi-conscious duck, digging into his pack the second he was settled.

"Did he actually pass out?" The red-clad brother asked as he started setting out his first aid kit.

"Yep." A tap to Louie's cheek did nothing to rouse him, Dewey shifting to hold the light over the wound. It didn't look too bad, most likely the result of the splintered wood his brother had fallen through. He watched as Huey wiped the red trail from the foot and leg before pouring a clear liquid over the cut.

"Wakey wakey, Louie." Dewey gave a sing-songy call once the bandaging was complete. His little brother groaned, mumbling woozily before his eyes began to flutter against the lights on his face.

"Quit…" Louie lifted a hand to block the glow as he finally came to. "Why am I on the floor?"

"Because you're a giant, squeamish baby." Huey helped the wounded duck sit, grinning at the annoyed glare he received. "You okay, now?"

Louie clenched his eyes shut, shaking his head slightly and Dewey suspected the room was spinning. After another beat, the youngest nodded and got to his feet with a little assistance.

"Worst. Slide. Ever." He grumbled. "Can we get outta here already?"

Now seemed like as good a time as any, but as Dewey took another cursory glance at the treehouse, he suddenly realized who it belonged to. Uncle scrooge would've been too old for the place once he'd built the mansion. This had to be where their mother and Uncle Donald played as kids. The undaunted significance of the space cut off anything he was about to say, leaving him to gape at the bare room.

"What?" Huey finally asked.

"This is…" His whisper tumbled out. "Mom."

"Mom?" Louie took hold of his arm and Dewey wasn't sure if it was to get his attention or to keep himself up. As he turned to regard his brothers, he saw the same realization click behind their wide eyes.

"How did Webby find this place?" Huey asked. There was no way she would have kept this place a secret back when they were looking for clues about their mother. They would need to find out once they got back to the mansion.

Speaking of…

"I don't know, but I remember where I've seen the image on the next clue." Dewey moved to the slopes entrance, grabbing the rope. "Let's go."

OoOoOoO

Louie could honestly say he'd never been this exhausted in his life. Maybe it was the continuous ache in his leg or the three and a half hours they'd spent following clues in and out of the mansion. A break in the kitchen had been detrimental, because he was certain he'd be far worse off if they hadn't.

The extra snacks shifted in the pocket of his sweatshirt, but his appetite was dampened by the door he and his brothers were standing in front of. The word 'Observatory' was embossed into a metal plaque, ignorant of the effect it was having on their small hearts.

The room itself was located in the left wing, far into the recesses of an empty hallway. Without the clues, they would never have thought to even explore this area. Again, they wondered why their friend was leading them to it right now.

"We going in?" Huey's voice was hushed as he nudged Dewey's arm. The middle duck didn't immediately react, but before Louie could add his own encouragements, his older brother reached forward and took the doorknob in his hand.

He wasn't sure what he had expected. Years of watching television and seeing the stereotypical luxury rooms that held an oversized telescope may have distorted his visions. As the trio walked in, there were no ornate bookshelves or antique chairs and tables. The telescope itself was high tech, made of smooth, polished metal. Dormant consoles and screens lined the room, long since abandoned by their uncle in his search for their mother. In space.

Louie found himself sitting on the floor, tears falling unhindered down his cheeks, exacerbated by the fatigue of the day. Huey joined him, wrapping an arm around his little brother's shoulders. Light sniffles pulled from the red-clad duck and Louie found he couldn't look at him, the ache of his heart overshadowing the pain in his leg.

"What-" Dewey seemed to be the only one able to function at the moment. He sounded confused and shocked, unsure of what this all meant.

The soft pad of foot steps and click of a cane echoed behind them, but they didn't turn to see their uncle as he entered. Scrooge stayed quiet and Louie found himself wishing he would say something. He would tell them some ingenious plan he's developed to bring back Mom and all they needed was this room. Instead, he slowly sat on the ground in front of them, arms wide and moisture glistening behind his spectacles. His brothers were the first to fall into the hug, Louie sliding across the floor until he could be pulled in.

"I'm sorry, lads." The elder duck began. "I had hoped to soften the blow, but I believed ye needed to find this place in your own."

"Is this where you looked for Mom?" Dewey's voice was subdued.

"Aye. When I wasn't at the launch site, I would come here and search the sky." Scrooge answered with a hint of sadness. "I've combed over thousands of miles of space, but there's still so much out there. I did'nae want to stop."

"You had to." Louie added, clinging to the sleeve that wrapped around him. "You didn't have a choice."

If their uncle was going to say anything more, he didn't, instead, tightening his hold on the trio. They were interrupted by another set of quiet sniffles and Louie peeked over his shoulder to see Webby and Uncle Donald standing in the open doorway. Their friend quickly ran in to join the hug, her own tears soaking into the fabric of his sweatshirt.

"Can we…" Dewey, again, found his voice. "Can we use it?"

As if prepared for this question, Scrooge nodded to Donald, a switch being hit on the wall by the door. In an instant, the machinery was up and running, lights driving away the dark shadows of the abandoned room. It almost sounded like a song of joy, each machine sending a whine of power and activity around them. Another switch activated and the ceiling began to pull apart, revealing to darkening late-afternoon sky.

"It's all yours, boys." Their great uncle smiled.

Huey was up in seconds, already running between machines to learn what they did, Dewey not far behind, their tears wiped away to make room for whatever lay in the heavens. Louie stayed by his uncles and Webby, still processing what they'd just been told.

A hand touched his shoulder and Louie looked up to see Uncle Donald's arm outstretched to offer some assistance. The younger duck realized his mistake when he accepted and was pulled to his feet, wincing as the weight fell on his injured leg.

"You're hurt?!" Donald almost yelled, dropping down to get a better view of the bandage.

"Nothing to worry about." Louie tried to brush it off. "Huey already took care of it."

"What happened?" This time Scrooge asked, sounding more curious than concerned.

"Uh," he started, realizing there was probably no avoiding the whole story. "I fell into the tree house."

Both adults pinched the bridge of their bills, trying to rub away the sudden pain Louie suspected came when dealing with young ducks who couldn't help getting into trouble. He quickly grew queasy as Donald began removing the bandage to get a look at the cut.

"Ah- Uncle Donald!" His hands were pushing the older duck's away. "Don't! It's fine! Really!" As far as he knew, it could be infected, but that was a problem for future-Louie. Right now, he had no interest in seeing the effects of an old, splintered board across his leg.

"Just let me-" Donald warned gently, but stopped once the fabric was pulled away. "Ah, not that bad now that I see it."

Louie didn't want to see it, choosing to keep his eyes clenched shut until the bandage was pressed back over the offending area. "Can I go?" He really just wanted to join his brothers as they explored the new room.

At his uncle's affirmative, he took off at a hobble, grateful for the short distance it took him to reach the screen Huey was navigating. He'd already pulled up a star chart, referencing the small book that never left his side.

For the remainder of the day, the group stayed in the room. Dinner had been brought up, no one willing to leave even for a small break. Louie wasn't exactly sure what their goal was, but he found a sense of peace as the images of space drifted across the monitors.

Now, well past their bed time, he and his brothers were laying out on a small balcony that protruded from the house. The clear night sky above them twinkled with celestial bodies and Louie began to wonder what they had looked like to their mother. It was a bittersweet thought. Della had made it into the unexplored, an adventure like none other, but in going, she had lost them. They had lost her.

A stray tear trickled from the corner of his eye, accompanied by a soft sniffle. It used to always hurt to think about their mother, never really knowing who she was. So many answers had been given to them in such a short period of time, the pain had changed, grown more intense. Now, she wasn't a mysterious missing figure in their lives anymore. Della was a treasure worth more than all the gold in the world. They craved to see her, to know her and hear that she hadn't meant to leave them. The more they discovered, the stronger the need grew. Handling something so heavy was beyond Louie's comprehension and he found tears were the only way to lessen the weight.

"Where do you think she would've gone first?" Dewey spoke, his voice soft as not to disturb the speckled sky above.

No one answered, Louie considering the question as he stared at the glowing specks. Each one didn't seem good enough, too small, too dull. Mom would have picked the brightest, most beautiful star she could find. Huey's arm lifted, pointing towards a spot his other brothers would never be able to pinpoint just from the gesture.

"The one that's twinkling." The oldest brother clarified. "Looks like a diamond from here. I think she would have liked it."

To his surprise, Louie found the star, shimmering in the icky blackness, separate from the rivers of dots that flowed around it. It was the star he would choose.

The night crept on, oblivious of the observers who were slowly succumbing to the pull of a long day. Their eyes began to droop, unable to remain focused on the small jewels in the sky. The last thing Louie remembered before he fell asleep was the soft glow of the thin, crescent moon, smiling down on them. It was a warm memory and would lead his dreams to the peace he could only hope for in the waking world.

The end.


End file.
